


“Comment est-il si radieux?”

by Bienmoreau



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2020-08-20 22:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bienmoreau/pseuds/Bienmoreau
Summary: Anonymous asked: that "tattoo w the first thing your soulmate thought" thing, what do you think jerejean's would say?you get your soulmates first thought upon seeing you as a tattoo when you turn 16. it makes finding your soulmate far more flexible and generally reliant more on the feeling you get from them than the mark itself.





	“Comment est-il si radieux?”

_[ There is always a level of gut instinct that comes with finding and identifying your soulmate. There has to be. It is rare for people to be aware of your fated partners mark soon enough after meeting them to know then and there. But in all cases people claimed to have a feeling of rightness when spending time with the other party and as couples got to know each other after meeting the relevance or validity of the soul marks would become evident. ]_  
  


The soulmarks were a thing to be celebrated, they were an added extra to the normal revelries.  
Especially for members of the Knox family.  
On the morning of his 16th birthday Jeremy woke up especially early and was immediately aware of the itch crawling across the skin on the inside of his bicep.  
Jeremy would be the first to admit that he was a romantic at heart and so was understandably equal parts terribly disappointed and over to moon at the poetry of it when he twisted his arm around and found the swirl of black lettering.

_ **‘comment est-il si radieux?’  
** _

* * *

* * *

It wasn’t Jean’s first ‘tattoo’ but, despite the circumstances behind his first, it was the one that scared him the most.  
The morning of his 16 birthday was the same as any other in all ways but one significant change. One particularly powerful and harsh reminder of the life he had to struggle through. The fear that settled deep deep in his bones as a sharp prickling across his ribs under his heart pulled him from his usual black out sleep.

He gripped the sheets, screwed his eyes shut again and cursed through gritted teeth. trying not to let his eyes well up as he carefully shifted and sat up, glancing over to where Kevin scowled out at the world in his sleep.  
Riko would have to know of course. He would be at their door soon, he would be making this into hell for him soon.  
At least, he reassured himself, this would only be entertaining to him for so long.

The idea of stripping his shirt and actually looking at the cause for his current discomfort made Jean feel sick but he knew it would be better to be prepared for the reactions of the others, best to know-

Hands shaking Jean eased himself out of his bed and carefully pulled his shirt up over his shoulder, not daring to look down until he knew the words were on show and even then had to take a steadying breath before letting himself look down.

In the gloom of their tiny room the black scrawl looked like ink spilt across grey skin, 

_‘oh wow, he’s beautiful…’_

Merde.

* * *

The boy in front of him was like no other he had ever met.  
Of course he had known going into the match that the other would be his mark, his counterpart on court. But following stats and watching the other teams games throughout the season was nothing like standing face to face with him as they stepped into place and waited for the match to start. 

Their eyes met for a moment through the grills of their helmets and a jolt of -_something- _washed over him, some bright thought that seemed to hold weight despite its irrelevance to the situation in front of him. The moment was short lived however with the ball being slammed into play and all other things being replaced by his single minded focus on the game.

* * *

* * *

The room around them was quiet as Jean watched Jeremy potter about their little kitchen. The Sunday sun making his hair glow in a halo around his head as he turned to look across the room, catching Jeans gaze and beaming that signature grin.

“Comment est-il si radieux?”  
It was a mumbled question that Jean had asked himself many times about the boy in front of him and he hadn’t expected Jeremy to hear let alone react the way he did; immediately stopping what he had been doing and fixing a curious look on Jean.

“what did you just say?” he crossed the room to stand next to Jeans half turned desk chair. He didn’t seem annoyed but there was an odd intensity in he eyes that made Jean falter for a breath before mumbling his reply, hands twisting at the ends of his sleeves as he looked down at the desk,

“oh, nothing much, just thinking out loud sorry-”

“Jean?” Jeremy’s voice was clear and bright and with not even an edge of anger or annoyance in it “please say what you just said again”

Jean twisted the fabric tighter but made himself look up, to meet Jeremy’s eyes, as soon as he did he knew he wasn’t in trouble- it was Jeremy, of course he wasn’t, but old fears die slow. Swallowing a little thickly he freed his hands and answered again.

“I said ‘comment est-il si radieux?’.. it- it means, uh- ‘how is he so radiant?’ It’s the first thing I thought when I met you in person and I’ve been asking myself that same thing over and over since I came to the Trojans- I-”  
He was cut off by Jeremy, his voice oddly breathy,

“um Jean.” the shorter boy began tugging his t-shirt over his left shoulder and bunching it around his neck, hands a little shaky as he gripped the cloth and held out his left arm, turning it so Jean could see the words he carried there. 

The room seemed to still around them, Jean felt his breathing stutter and was sure Jeremy’s own breath was being held. Without really thinking about it he reached out and ran the softest of touches over the text on the smooth tan skin of Jeremy’s under arm.

“oh-”  
It was no more than an exhale of his held breath but it broke the tension between them and his eyes snapped up to Jeremy’s face. Sweet and a little pink with a startled blush and his eyes so bright, always so bright, only rivaled when his expressions broke into a huge smile that Jean couldn’t help but return.  
As he stood he lifted his hand to touch Jeremy’s cheek, brushing a curl back from his eye.

“I, I had sort of hoped you know,” his voice was so soft, a little unsure but so hopefully happy “I never knew how to bring it up, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I’d hoped. gods Jean, I’d hoped.”

Jean didn’t know what to say, how to tell Jeremy that he had spent so many years not letting himself think about it. About his own mark and the future it proclaimed for him that had never seemed like a possibility.  
That he had then come to USC and instead spent gods know how many nights trying to not wonder; late at night or first thing in the morning when Jeremy was sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. To not let himself hope.

There didn’t seem to be any words in the world that could convey it all clearly enough, not in that moment, perhaps he could dedicate the years to come to trying to find them, but not right then.  
Instead Jean pushed his hand into Jeremy’s hair marveling at how easily Jeremy closed his eyes, melting into the touch, he steadied himself and his racing heart and closed the gap between them. 

* * *

* * *

Later, Jeremy curled into his side on their scruffy little sofa, head lent against his shoulder as Jean’s fingers gently twisted the hairs at the base of his neck. Jeremy’s voice only just above a whisper as his own fingers softly traced where Jean had shown him his own mark was split in two by a long silver scar, where it was still just legible.  
“It’s true you know, I’ve always thought so. I was so distracted by you whenever we weren’t playing. I still am.”


End file.
